When you have a life and a job, it’s Monday that you hate.
When you’re me, Friday wins the Most Dreaded Day Of The Week contest, hands down.
Do repack the sunbutter-and-jelly sandwiches that went uneaten yesterday. They won’t be eaten today, either, so why waste more food?
Don’t let on that that’s what you’re doing. It has the potential to cause a lot of whining during breakfast.
Do arrive early for the Holiday Musical Program at school.
Don’t sit on the opposite side of the gymnasium from where your child ends up standing. Moron.
Do go ahead and move to the other side. Quietly.
Don’t attempt to convey via elaborate pantomime to your daughter that she should please stop hiking up her dress and grabbing her crotch. The result will only be more dress-hiking and crotch-grabbing, but now with attention-drawing “WHAT??”s thrown in for added embarrassment.
Do take lots of pictures. Yes, even of the crotch-grabbing.
Don’t be insulted when your child lights up and runs straight to Daddy afterwards.
Do carry on a conversation with the air around you (“Why yes, I’m here too, thank you so much for noticing!”) until an appropriately abashed “Hi, Mama” is produced.
Don’t forget to admire and take home the ten-ton frosting-and-candy blob of a gingerbread house.
Do make loud comments about how you know what you’ll be having for lunch, now, while pretending to lick the gumdrop bushes. Feel pleased when one of your child’s little friends giggles, “Your mom is so weird!”
Don’t allow your camera to swing on its strap and whack the gingerbread house, sending one of the mini-candy-cane-toboggan-riding gummi bears deep into the recesses of your car. Moron.
Do have lunch and then take a nap. Hey, it’s Friday.
Don’t walk to the bus stop in the rain. It’s warm and dry in the car, you know.
Do round up the children and suggest a Fun Friday Evening of Fun! And! More fun!
Don’t actually start hyping them up until you’ve come up with a plan. Moron.
Do decide on some baking, and allow the kids to do most of the measuring and mixing.
Don’t get all excited and happy about the scent of banana muffins and then realize you still have to make dinner. Moron.
Do make pizza while the kids get into their pajamas.
Don’t threaten to just send them to bed early, without dinner, when they start running around the house naked. Simply suggest that hot pepperoni might not feel good on naked laps.
Do have a pizza picnic in the family room while watching A Christmas Story.
Don’t start singing “It’s beginning to look a lot like CHRISTMAS!” to annoy the children during every lull in the movie where they start to lose interest. Things like that are the reason why they like Daddy better.
Do let the kids stay up late. Maybe they’ll sleep in. Okay, they won’t, but let them stay up late, anyway. Someone should have some fun around here.
Don’t expect them to be any more agreeable about going to bed just because you let them stay up late.
Do resolve to enjoy your evening once the kids are tucked in. Your Friday evening. Your Friday evening all alone. Again.
Don’t just watch TLC all night. Again. Moron.
Do blog about your day and make light. Tralala! Life sucks! Teehee! Why? Just because. And misery loves company. Not that you’re miserable.
Don’t be surprised that none of your buddies are online. It’s Friday night! Moron.